When I was growing up in the 50’s and 60’s, my favorite things to play with (when I wasn’t reading a book) were dolls. I liked the limp kind that seemed like a real baby, where the arms and legs flopped around. The more realistic the better, especially the ones that had eyes that closed when you laid her down. And I was in sheer heaven when I got a Betsy Wetsy one year. I loved changing her diapers.
I still have to this day the very last doll I got for Christmas. I think I was about ten years old and a little old for dolls so I didn't play with it much.
Then, when I got around ten or twelve years old my youngest sister and I became obsessed with paper dolls. We’d patiently cut out their clothes with tabs and dress them up. We’d make up stories and have the cardboard dolls act them out. We spent umpteen hours on end playing with them.
Christmas was a special time for us. Growing up poor, I didn't expect a whole lot because I was aware pretty early on about our lack of money so my Santa list only included a couple of items.
My sister and I usually got two toys then the rest was needed things like clothes and socks. Here's a picture of me that was taken on Christmas Day about 1955 with all my goodies except stocking stuff which was usually an apple, an orange, nuts of some kind and a few pieces of ribbon candy.
Today, kids get I-Pads, XBoxes, I-Phones and all kinds of expensive things that parents spend at least a thousand dollars on. And stockings gifts amount to a pretty penny. Kids see no fruit or nuts in theirs.
But do they appreciate it? Most don't. They expect (sometimes demand) certain gifts and throw huge fits if they don't get whatever their hearts desire.
I'd love to go back to the old days when simple was the norm and kids were happy just knowing they were loved.
I remember one Christmas in particular around 1959. My daddy had gotten severely burned on his job and was in the hospital. We didn't know if he'd make it. My mother spent all her time by his beside. So I knew that we'd not get anything but that didn't worry me. I just wanted my daddy to get well. I remember my brother who was seven years older tucking us into bed because Mama was at the hospital. I said my prayers and asked God to let my daddy live.
When I woke up Christmas morning, Mama was there and she was smiling for the first time in weeks. She told us Daddy had turned a corner and would make it. That was certainly the most memorable Christmas I ever had. I still cry when I think of it as I'm doing now.
So on this Christmas, on day of Jesus' birth, I wish you all health, happiness, and much love. May you find contentment and joy in your hearts.